The Return of Draco?
by Allissimo
Summary: Hermione sees a figure in the distance. Her friends think she's imagining it. Is she? She's just so sure it looked like Draco Malfoy...
1. Chapter 1

The Return Of Draco…?

Chapter One 

There were spectators in the Gryffindor Common Room as Ron and Hermione were having a heated argument. Harry was sitting placidly in his chair, rolling his eyes as he watched them. Ron and Hermione were circling the table, as two ferocious animals would circle each other, before a fight to the death.

Ron's ears were crimson. "I just don't understand why you're still in touch with him, Hermione!"

"I'm still in touch with him, Ron," she said calmly, pointing her finger at him as though brandishing a sword, "because he's smart and funny and he _listens_ to what I have to – "

"Oh, come on, Hermione! The guy's in his twenties, and you're still at school! What the hell would you two have in common to talk about anyway?"

"Oh, shut up!" She whipped out her wand.

"It's really pathe – "

She jabbed her wand at Ron, not thinking about what she was doing. Ron dropped to the ground instantly, out cold. Harry leapt out of his chair, knocking his books and parchment on the floor, and was kneeling at Ron's side in an instant. "HERMIONE!" he yelled, "WHAT D'YOU DO THAT FOR?" but Hermione had already disappeared up the girls' staircase.

Hermione stood at the open window, looking out at the frozen, misty grounds, thinking. When everyone had thought that Hogwarts was close, her only thought had been that she wouldn't see Ron. Wow. She had changed so much since she had been a twelve-year-old girl immersed in countless books. How could her whole life now revolve around a boy when it used to revolve around the hunger for learning? When they had decided to keep Hogwarts open after all, Hermione had rejoiced at the thought of seeing Ron. Harry still spent every waking hour searching for the remaining Horcruxes, but for everyone else, this had been a time of moving forwards, and for Hermione, maybe a time for love…

Well, all that's gone out of the window, she thought, as she looked out of one now. She sighed and watched the sigh take physical form in the freezing air. The whole Krum thing… She was still in touch with him to make Ron jealous, but if she had known he was going to react this way…

She sighed again, and in the same instant became aware that there was another disturbance in the mist, one that was not caused by Hermione's own breath. A shadow. A figure. A person, moving at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Then it was gone. Hermione blinked, and squinted out into the unclear grey that was the school grounds. Had she imagined it? No, surely not. There was no one more sure of herself than Hermione. It was probably just Hagrid, doing some game-keeping thing in the grounds. Hermione closed the window and went to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two 

The next day, Ron and Hermione were completely ignoring each other. In all the morning lessons they had together, Harry had to sit between them. They answered Harry's questions, not impolitely, but as quickly as they could, and Ron even bent over his work, although Hermione, sneaking a look at him from behind her hair, was sure he was doing no work.

At lunch, Harry again sat between them, and asked Ron if he would stop ignoring Hermione.

"She _Stunned_ me, Harry!" he whispered furiously. "She knocked me out cold. Blimey, Harry, do you think she deserves to be talked to at all?"

"Ron, I'm sick of this. I'm not going to agree with you, because she's my friend. I'm not going to support either of you in your bickerings, because I don't really care, mate, whether or not you two ever talk to each other again!"

Hermione, pretending to be greatly interested in a piece of sprout that had fallen off someone's plate, knew that Harry did not mean this. She looked out of the window – and saw the figure again. This time it was clearer, but not clear enough. It was not an adult – at least, not quite. It looked like a student…

"Hermione, what're you staring at over there?" asked an annoyingly curious Seamus Finnigan. Hermione looked at Seamus, frowning. "Nothing." She answered shortly. She looked back out of the window. The figure was gone. As Harry, Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall, Hermione thought back to what she had seen. Blond hair. Very thin. Moving very skulkingly… Hermione had thought it looked discomfortingly like Draco Malfoy…

After lunch they were in Transfiguration. Still, Ron and Hermione were not speaking to each other. They sat in icy silence, as Harry had given up trying to make conversation.

Hermione was trying to do work, but kept thinking back to the figure she had seen. If it was, as she had thought, Draco Malfoy back again, they were all in serious trouble. She kept glancing out of the window, wondering if it would appear again –

"All right, Miss Granger, you can tell them," came McGonnagall's clear voice.

"Tell them what, Professor?" Hermione asked uncomfortably.

McGonnagall looked at Hermione in surprise. "The answer. Haven't you been listening, child?"

Hermione went pink. All the class was staring at her. Hermione, not paying attention? There was something wrong. Even Ron had forgotten that he was ignoring her, and was staring at her, bewildered.

"N – n – no, Professor, sorry," admitted Hermione weakly.

Well then, that has to be five points from Gryffindor." McGonnagall said.

Hermione dropped her head into her hands and didn't look up again until the lesson was over.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Hermione kept seeing the figure for a few of the days that followed. The trouble was, she could no longer tell whether or not it was real. Once, she had been in the girls' dormitory and had seen it, out of the window, yet again, in the same place as the other times.

"Lavender! Lavender!" she cried urgently to the only other person in the room. "Come here, quick! Look out there!"

"At what?" Asked Lavender Brown, peering out of the window. "I don't see anything unusual."

Hermione looked back. Lavender was right. There was nothing there.

And it happened again, in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Harry! Look!"

"What? There's nothing down there, Hermione. Are you feeling all right?"

After a while, Harry started to worry a lot more about Hermione. She was becoming very distant, and kept seeing things that weren't there. Ron began worrying too, and resolved to speak to her again, in the hope that it would bring her back to her normal state of mind. She responded warmly to his friendship again, but kept slipping back into the distant behaviour that worried her friends.

"It's probably just stress," Harry reassured Ron. "She does work a bit too hard."

"But it's just not _Hermione_. Usually her way of coping with stress is drawing revision timetables, colour coding them, and doing work until she falls asleep. This Hermione is doing no work at all."

Hermione was staring out of the window, tired and strained-looking, her homework lying undone on her lap. She heard Harry's voice saying, "Hermione… Hermione, I think you should come and see Madame Pomfrey." Hermione did not register these words, but when she felt someone take her homework off her and pull her arm, she stood up and let Harry and Ron lead her to the Hospital Wing.

"Oh, you seventh years," muttered Madame Pomfrey, tutting, "you never will stop coming up with different, dangerous spells to help yourselves. Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, I'm afraid I have no idea what's wrong with Miss Granger… Probably some brain stimulating spell gone terribly wrong…" She was trying to persuade Hermione to get into bed, but she wouldn't. So Madame Pomfrey ushered Harry and Ron out of the room, and left Hermione alone. I'm not crazy, Hermione thought to herself. I'm not. I'm not stressed out, either. Whatever I keep seeing is _real_. It's _real_.

As if to support her point, or else to mess with her head, the figure was there again. She could see it clearly out of the window.

She wasted no time. Having no cloak with her, she went straight out of the Hospital Wing, down the stairs and out into the freezing air. She looked at the ground as she walked in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. She stopped, hardly daring to look up. She knew that she was near where she had seen the figure. She continued staring at the floor. Then she heard an uncomfortably familiar yet strangely unfamiliar voice.

"Hello, Granger."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The voice was familiar because it was unmistakably Draco Malfoy's drawl. And yet it was not familiar, because it was cracked and parched, and the usual tone of smugness had gone. Hermione looked up to face him, but not before pointing her wand straight at him.

It _was_ Draco Malfoy, as Hermione had thought. Hermione was not sure which of her two emotions was the stronger: relief at knowing she had not imagined it, or hatred and fear at who this was, standing before her. But also was a feeling that, if it had been anyone else but Malfoy, would have been as strong as pity. Because he was not at all well. She remembered him with an evil smile on his face, eyes lazily half-closed as he taunted her. But this Malfoy was thin and ill looking, and dirty, and he certainly was not smiling. Nor was he arrogantly taunting Hermione. He was looking at her with a weak, pleading look on his face, a look that said plainly, "Help me."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. The grip on her wand did not weaken, for she did not trust him. "What do you want here, Malfoy? You should be glad I haven't killed you."

"You wouldn't kill me, Granger. I know you don't have the heart to _want_ to kill anyone, even me. You have pity. You – "

"Shut it, Malfoy. What do you want here? I won't ask you again. I might not kill you, but I'll hex you so badly you won't be able to walk, and I'll get someone else to finish you off."

He looked fearfully at her wand, then even more fearfully at her eyes, which showed that she meant every word of what she said.

"N - no, please, Hermione, please, just hear me out…" he begged.

The surprise Hermione felt at hearing her first name spoken by Malfoy made her falter. "All – all right," she said warily, "I'm listening."

Malfoy dropped to his knees, and then sat down, not appearing to care that the ground was wet and muddy. Hermione sat down on a large rock, never letting her eyes or her wand leave him.

"The thing is," Malfoy began, looking down at his hands, which were clasped together tightly, "On that day, the day when – well – you know the one I – "

"Yes, I do," said Hermione coldly, "carry on."

"Yes, well – I was there, looking at him, with my wand pointed at him… And I knew that, at any rate, I was not strong enough to do it. So I wondered what I was doing… Why was I standing here, acting like I was strong enough? I was obeying _him_. Why? Because I was scared of him. I was too much of a coward to stand up to him, and I was too much of a coward to obey him. But I didn't want to listen to _him_ any more. I realised that Albus Dumbledore was not the force that was challenging our idea of the perfect wizarding world. He was just a man, but a very different man, who stood up for the idea that we could all be _together_. _Together_, no matter what our heritage.

"So I lowered my wand. And then I saw Snape, the teacher who favoured me more than any other, looking at Professor Dumbledore with nothing but cold in his eyes, and I saw the helpless look on Dumbledore's face, and it was wrong. He shouldn't have looked like that. He shouldn't have died begging…

"But I ran. I had to, after what I nearly did, what I'd been involved in. But I have nowhere to go, so I'm seeking refuge here. Help me, Granger."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Hermione was crying silently. She didn't know whether to believe him or not. But Malfoy hadn't finished.

"I only let myself be seen by you, which was no mean feat, I can tell you. I knew that eventually you'd come and find me, and that you'd be the only one to hear me out."

Hermione couldn't cope with this. She stood up, still pointing her wand at him. "You tried to kill Dumbledore! It's your fault he's – "

"No!" He was on his knees, then on his feet. "I tell you, Hermione, I've changed. Look:" He took out his wand, held it out so she could see it clearly, and extended it out towards her, handle first.

Hermione looked at him. She slowly took the wand from him, and put it in one of her robe's pockets. She said, "You wait here." Malfoy nodded, and Hermione took out a jar from another pocket of her robes. It was full of flames, and she gave it to Malfoy. "That's to keep you warm." She told him.

"Thank you," he said weirdly. Hermione shook her head to get rid of the strangeness of Malfoy thanking her.

"You stay here, I'll come back." She said.

"All right." Malfoy said trustingly.

Hermione entered the Common Room. Harry and Ron were sitting in their accustomed chairs by the fire. The third chair, in which Hermione usually sat, was occupied by Colin Creevey, camera in hand, trying to make Harry and Ron tell him what was wrong with Hermione. It was he who noticed Hermione at the door, and he got up, quickly put eye to camera and clicked the shutter. Hermione blinked, trying to see properly, as she heard Colin say, "Wow! A picture of Hermione Granger, still on the verge of madness, just escaped from the Hospital Wing! Look!"

"We don't want to look, Colin, said Harry angrily, pushing past him. Harry and Ron were crowding round Hermione now. "What're you doing here, Hermione?" Asked Ron, worried.

"I'm fine, I don't need the Hospital Wing. What I do need, tough," she looked pointedly at Harry, "is – "

Colin Creevey, at this point, shoved the picture in their faces. It was a still photo of Hermione throwing up her arms against the glare of the flash. Ron grabbed it and tapped the surface. "There's something wrong there, mate," he said, "she's not moving."

"Ah, I know, but that's because it's an instant Muggle camera. I find that if I take photos with a proper camera, the people don't seem to want to stay in the picture.

"Yeah, I wonder why that is," mused Ron in mock-thoughtfulness. Harry laughed.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Harry and Ron were frogmarching Hermione out of the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione protested loudly. "No, listen – stop, now… Listen to me! LISTEN!"

They stopped and Ron said, "you're not well, Hermione. You need rest, you need to get rid of some of this stress – "

"No! Just _listen_. I don't _need_ the Hospital Wing! I need Harry's Invisibility Cloak."

The confusion on Harry and Ron's faces was obvious. "What?" They said in unison. "Why?" Harry asked.

"Just let me have it, Harry. Please."

"Tell me why. If you're out doing something dangerous, I should come and help you – "

"No! You'll screw everything up – "

"Me? You know I'm better at things like this!"

"What do you mean? That you're better than me just because you beat me in Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Hermione's eyes were filling up with tears.

"No, I don't mean that, Hermione… Don't get so… I mean…"

"Please let me use it. I'll tell you about it later." She promised.

For a moment it looked like Harry would refuse. But then he nodded and went reluctantly up the Boys' Staircase. When Hermione looked at Ron, she could see that he didn't look pleased. "What are you up to, Hermione?" he asked. "Cause you can tell _me._ I won't tell anyone."

"No, I can't tell you. If I told you, you'd try to stop me, so I'll tell you what's happened when it's happened." And she said no more about it.

Presently Harry came back with the Invisibility Cloak. He hung on to it for a second before letting Hermione take it from him. As she headed towards the door, Harry asked, "Wait a minute – aren't you putting it on?" Hermione turned around and said, "No. It's not for me." Then, before anyone could ask any more questions, she had opened the Portrait of the Fat Lady, climbed through the hole and was out of the other side, on her way to find Malfoy.

Malfoy was sitting on the rock Hermione had earlier occupied, looking down at the floor. He looked up when he saw Hermione approaching, and was on his feet by the time she reached him. She showed him the Cloak in her arms. "What's that?" he asked, looking at it curiously. "Hey – Wait – Is that an Invisibility cloak?"

"Yes. You need to use it. I'm going to smuggle you in." Wow. How very unlike me, she thought to herself.

Malfoy thought back to his third year at Hogwarts, when, from out of nowhere, globs of mud had started throwing themselves at him, Crabbe and Goyle. And he had seen Harry Potter's head floating in mid-air. He even thought back to the beginning of last year, when he had immobilised Harry as he attempted to hear what Malfoy was saying, and had broken the paralysed Harry's nose, putting the Cloak back on him so he would be carried on the train after everyone had left it.

"Hermione – Is that Potter's?"

"Harry's, yeah," she said.

"How did you convince him to let me use something of his like this?"

"What? He doesn't know, Draco…" Then she gasped. She'd called him by his first name. She resolved not to do that again. She was not familiar enough with him to do that.

As if to reinforce her decided unfamiliarity with him, she said, "Malfoy. When we are going to the castle, I need to make sure your aren't going anywhere. I'll need to keep my wand at your back, with you walking in front of me. If you try to go anywhere or do anything, I will Stun you and hand you over to the teachers. Is that clear?" Malfoy nodded, looking at her straight in the eye, seemingly so there could be no mistake in his sincerity. Hermione tried to ignore this very un-Malfoyish act. She handed him the Cloak. He put it on, instantly disappearing. "Where are you?" Hermione asked quickly.

"Over here," came Malfoy's voice from the general direction of where he had been before. He had not moved. Hermione pointed her wand at Malfoy and walked forwards until the tip of her wand met invisible resistance. "Is that you?" She whispered, although she was already completely sure that it was.

"Yes. What are you doing?"

"Turn around and walk in front of me towards the castle," she ordered, ignoring his question.

"Oh, right. OK." Malfoy obeyed silently.

All the while they were walking up to the castle, Hermione kept her wand just lightly jabbing Malfoy in the back, so that she could always feel that he was not running away.

Hermione was so wrapped up in making sure Malfoy didn't escape that she did not notice until it was too late that they had run into a certain greasy-looking man with jowls aquiver, and a satisfied grin on his face.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Well, well, well," said Argus Filch, smiling unpleasantly. "What have we here? A student out a-wandering in the corridors after hours, with a wand out, no less! What were you up to then?"

"Er – "

"Speak up, speak up!"

"I – was – "

"That's right! You're squirming now, aren't you?" He was positively shaking with excitement at the prospect of handing out a punishment. He was bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. "Come with me! And put down your wand!"

"But – "

"Do it!"

Hermione reluctantly put her wand in her pocket, and was immediately terrified that there was now a potential Voldemort follower loose in the Hogwarts grounds. She jumpily followed Filch into his office.

She had never been in this place before, but, on entering, she immediately wanted to get out, because it smelled like Mrs. Norris, and there was cat hair all over every surface. Hermione looked around at file upon file of student records. She could see Harry and Ron's files, and the files of a few other people she knew. She could also see a gap between some filing cabinets, which Hermione had a strong suspicion used to contain Fred and George's own separate cabinet. Hermione would have smiled at this, if she hadn't been concerned about her situation, and if, indeed, she had ever allowed herself to smile or laugh at examples of misbehaviour. Nevertheless, she had always approved and disapproved of Fred and George in equal measure and in alternation. The two feelings often clashed.

Hermione sat down, very reluctantly, on the chair opposite the one behind the desk. The chair was, like all the others, very cheap-looking, made of wood and with sponge to make the seat soft. Hermione, she supposed, had to be grateful that the grey chair was padded at all. But it was covered in cat hair, and Hermione had to try very hard to keep herself from grimacing.

Filch began searching through filing cabinets. He made a noise of annoyance when he did not find what he was looking for. He looked at her sharply. "Isn't your name Granger? Hermione Granger?" He demanded of her.

"Yes," answered Hermione shortly.

Filch turned back to the filing cabinets with a grunt. "Then the bloody thing should be under G…"

Hermione was very anxious to finish what she had been doing. She no longer knew where Malfoy was. If only she could call to him… If he was gone, if he was wreaking havoc in the school… She determined to search high and low for him and hex him very badly if it turned out that this was the case. To try to speed things up, she offered help. "Er… Mr. Filch?"

He turned back and snapped, "What?"

"You don't have a file on me. I've never – never got into trouble before."

"Oh! Well then, looks like I'll have to make a new – "

There was suddenly a crash, as of plates being smashed, or something heavy being clattered onto a floor, from about two floors above.

"PEEVES!" Yelled Filch, face red and eyes popping, "I know that's you!" Hermione completely forgotten, he put down his papers on which he was about to write her punishment, and exited the room in a flash. At the moment of the loud noise, Hermione had jumped, and, when she had got her breath back, called in a loud whisper, "Malfoy!" There was no answer. Louder, she said, "Malfoy!" Oh, no, she thought. He's run away. What have I done? What do I do now? She bit her nail anxiously while trying to come up with an answer to her own question. But before she had time to properly panic, she heard running footsteps. The door of Filch's office opened apparently by itself, and then closed again. Hermione heard quickened breathing, coming in gasps, as of someone trying to get their breath back. "Malfoy?" Inquired Hermione curiously, when the gasps had died down.

"Yes! Now come on, take me wherever it is you're taking me. He'll be back soon, I didn't have time to knock over the suit of armour from very far away."

_He_ did it! She thought. She almost said thank you, but still felt very uncomfortable about the idea. "Come on, then," she told him, "we're going to the Head teacher's office."

When they reached the stone gargoyle in front of the revolving staircase, Hermione felt incredibly stupid. She had formulated a plan; set it all out in her head, and had forgotten that she did not know the password to the Head's office.

"What are we going to do now?" Asked Malfoy.

"I don't know! You know, it's annoying being expected to know everything! Why can't you come up with your own answers for a change?"

"Sorry!"

"Hm."

"I don't think we're actually quite doomed yet," he said, "Look." The gargoyle had come to life and was springing aside to let out Professor Flitwick. On seeing Hermione, he immediately said, "Miss Granger! You know, I've been wanting to tell you about your latest marks in charms – Incredible! Wait, what are you doing here at this time?"

"Never mind that. What did I get?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"Er – A hundred and twenty-two per cent – But why are you here?"

"I need to get in. Can you tell me the password?"

"Miss Granger, it's after hours. I should give you a detention just for being here."

"I know, sir. But you know me. I never break the rules. But this is _very_ important. If Professor McGonnagall thinks I'm in the wrong, she will punish me. Please?"

"Oh, very well," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "The password is Gobstoppers'."

Gobstoppers.

Another Muggle sweet.

What else?


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

As Hermione and Malfoy ascended the spiral staircase to the Headteacher's office, Hermione went through about a dozen different ways of breaking the news of what she had done. Every attempt at working out how to word it sounded wrong in her head. At the same time, through her mind rushed a million doubts and worries. What if Malfoy was not to be trusted? What is, from the moment she opened the door, he pulled out his wand and started cursing people? No. No, she was being ridiculous. _She_ had his wand. Didn't she? She gasped, and then sighed with relief as she felt it in the pocket of her robes. Nevertheless, she pulled out her own wand. Just in case.

They had reached the top. She knocked on the door, and a voice said, "Come in." Hermione pushed open the door and stepped through.

The warm, circular room was exactly as she remembered it. There were all of Dumbledore's strange objects, some puffing smoke, some moving in some peculiar way, and some emitting quiet noises. All of these sat on tables which, although weak-looking, seemed to bear the weight very well. Around the walls were photographs of previous headmasters and mistresses, some snoozing against their frames, others sitting up and looking at Hermione curiously. There was the Sorting Hat, she noticed, looking as shabby as ever. There sat Fawkes's old perch, looking lonely by itself.

Professor McGonnagall sat self-consciously behind Dumbledore's desk, in his chair. It was as though she though she had no business sitting in Dumbledore's chair, but being the new headmistress, she had every right to. At any rate, she did not look relaxed as she sat there.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing here? You should be in your dormitory." McGonnagall said severely, although she seemed more tired than angry. Hermione knew that it couldn't be easy for her. In addition to her new role as Headmistress, she was still teaching Transfiguration until a new teacher was found.

"Well, Professor…" she began, shifting her feet uncomfortably. "I really need to talk to you. It's really important."

Professor McGonnagall sighed and asked, "Is it so important that you feel the need to break school rules in order to pass this information on to me?"

"Yes."

Hermione's "Yes" was deliberate and forceful. She has emphasised it by widening her eyes. There was no mistake that she meant it. Professor McGonnagall considered her for a moment. Hermione was never one to break rules. Admittedly, the influence of her friends sometimes led her down the wrong path, but she was here, alone, and had made her own decision to break the rules and come to Dumbledore's…Her office.

"Very well…" said McGonnagall. "Have a seat."

Hermione sat down and began to relate her story. Before she had the chance to say much, there came a muffled sound of annoyance followed by a thump. Malfoy had fallen over. "Oh, no…" said Hermione.

McGonnagall knew something was amiss. "What was that?" she asked, frowning.

"Come one, that's it. We're doomed. Get up…" Hermione told him. Malfoy threw off the Invisibility Cloak, after having stood up. Immediately McGonnagall jumped up from her seat and pointed her wand at him. "What on Earth were you thinking, girl?" she demanded, eyes ablaze. If Harry had been there he would have been reminded of the murderous expression on Dumbledore's face, when he had blasted into Moody's office in Harry's fourth year, at exactly the moment that the fake Moody was about to kill him.

But Harry was not there. Hermione was suddenly scared. "Have you gone out of your mind?" screamed McGonnagall. "What do you mean by bringing a juvenile Death Eater into Hogwarts? Are you trying to get yourself and me killed? What on Earth possessed you – "

"Minerva," came a quiet voice from somewhere in the room. "Can I be so bold as to ask if I can help in any way?" The voice was familiar. Painfully familiar. It made Hermione want to cry. Hermione closed her eyes briefly to clear her thoughts and calm herself, and then turned slowly to the source of the voice.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

It was Dumbledore.

But it was a different Dumbledore, in some ways, to the one she remembered. He looked back at her, eyes twinkling as he smiled amiably. This she did remember. But he looked younger, somehow, than he had before. Hermione could not see any signs of the weakness or worry in his face that she had known in the last few years. It was a carefree Dumbledore. A stronger Dumbledore.

A Dumbledore smiling out at her from a photo frame.

Of course. How could Hermione have been so stupid? She should have known that Dumbledore's picture, following his demise, would have joined the other past Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts on the wall of the Headteacher's office.

Such a rush of emotions swept through Hermione at this point. She had thought him gone. But no. He was here – or at least an image of him was here – a talking image, with the same odd matter-of-fact manner and helpful nature. Hermione wondered how Harry would be feeling in this situation. Harry, who had turned to Dumbledore more than any other person she knew, had been devastated when he died. Now that he was gone, Harry, Hermione knew, must be feeling so lost. Dumbledore had been considered by many to be a great man, and even by supporters of Voldemort to be a formidable enemy. He had been the only thing that had made Hogwarts the safest place to be.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione, smiling a small smile.

"Oh, hello, Hermione. Hello, Draco," he added, looking behind Hermione's shoulder. Malfoy looked down at his feet, unable to look Dumbledore in the eyes. "Can I help, Minerva?" Dumbledore repeated, politely. McGonnagall shrugged, looking a little embarrassed that she had been yelling so much. Dumbledore took this as a yes, and turned back to Malfoy. "So, Draco…" he began. Malfoy still stared at the floor. Dumbledore did not seem to care. "So, you have come back to Hogwarts, after trying to kill me and then running away from the school. Everyone thought you had gone back to the Death Eaters. But you have come back to us. Would you be so kind as to tell us your story, in your own words, please?"

Malfoy began to tell his story to his shoes, mumbling quietly as he stared down at the floor. Dumbledore listened courteously, while McGonnagall leaned against the desk, frowning and drumming her fingers on the wooden surface. Hermione, already knowing the story, looked around at the pictures of past Heads of Hogwarts. She recognised them all, having read about them in various books, and suddenly thought back to her fifth year, when Dolores Umbridge had been wormed slowly into Hogwarts by the Minister for Magic. She noticed that Umbridge's picture was not amongst the pictures of the past Headteachers, which was a relief. She also noticed that some of the frames on the wall were empty, probably because they were in their other frames in different places, passing on the news of what was going on.

Malfoy had finished his story, and looked up, not at Dumbledore, but at Hermione. He was seeking either confirmation of the truthfulness of his words, or consolation. He found neither, because Hermione was not in a position to want to give them to him.

"Well, Minerva," said Dumbledore pensively. What do you make of that?"

McGonnagall looked annoyed. She didn't know the answer to Dumbledore's question, any more than she knew what to do right now. She wished more than anything that Dumbledore were still Headmaster. She didn't know where to begin trying to live up to her predecessor.

Dumbledore looked again at Malfoy. "So, Draco. You came back to Hogwarts because you were afraid of what Lucuis might do to punish you when you did not kill me?"

Malfoy began to mumble quietly, but Hermione hissed under her breath, "Look at him, Malfoy."

He did so, meeting Dumbldore's blue eyes. "No, sir," he said with growing confidence, "I did it because I felt braver. I felt brave enough to question what my father had told me, and to run away from someone as murderous as the Dark Lord is. _Now_ I'm scared. I'm scared that Hogwarts isn't as safe as it used to be, now that you're – well – " He stopped. It is hard to talk to someone of their death, and very uncomfortable, too.

"Now that I am dead," smiled Dumbledore.

Malfoy nodded, going red.

"Well, Minerva. Is he lying?"

"I really don't know, Albus," said McGonnagall. "I am no Legilimens.

Ah, but you can tell when you are being lied to, can't you? So, was he lying?"

"No." McGonnagall said reluctantly.

"Exactly. So, what do we do now?"

"I don't…"

"Minerva, you know what we should do.

Hermione watched with interest as the photo-Dumbledore guided McGonnagall through the role of a Headteacher. McGonnagall was having a hard time of it, she knew. She needed Dumbledore to help her. But Dumbledore did it in such a way that he didn't actually help much. He just helped McGonnagall get to her own ideas and conclusions.

"We let him back into school," sighed McGonnagall tiredly, "Against my better judgement." Dumbledore said nothing, only smiled.

"Now, Hermione," said McGonnagall, trying to get back some control and bossiness, "You should get to bed now. Get on with you." She tried to push Hermione out of the door, but Hermione gave McGonnagall Malfoy's wand first, and picked up Harry's dropped Invisibility Cloak.

She thought all the way back about what had happened. She had definitely done the right thing. She herself couldn't have dealt with it. If Dumbledore and McGonnagall thought he was trustworthy, then so did she. Dumbledore always knew things like this. But then again, he had though that Snape was on the good side…

She was at the portrait of the Fat Lady. When she gave the password, she thought she heard a noise of disapproval from the Fat Lady, before she swung her frame forwards. But she thought that this was because it was very late and students coming through the portrait hole at this time was a nuisance. When Hermione had scrambled through the portrait hole, she straightened up – and looked straight into the accusing faces of just about every Gryffindor in the school.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

There they all were, sitting on chairs or standing in the room. There were no signs of homework or Exploding Snap or anything for them to have been doing before Hermione came in, which led her to believe that they had all been waiting for her to come.

Hermione stared for a moment at all the people, crowded in this one room to glare at her. There were so many people there that she never even bothered to hope to get to the other side of the room, to the girls' dormitory. She would have to face whatever they had to say.

It was Harry who moved first. He stood up, but before he could say anything or do anything else, Hermione had thrust the Invisibility Cloak at him and said, "There you go, Harry, it's not damaged or anything. Thanks for letting me use it." Harry held it at arm's length. Hermione wondered whether this was because he knew that Malfoy had used it.

"How did you all find out?" asked Hermione in a shaky voice.

"Someone from another portrait told the Fat Lady," said Harry shortly, "Not that it matters. What the hell did you do it for, Hermione?" he added suddenly.

Then came a great clamour of noise from everyone else in the room. They all wanted the answer to the same question, plus answers to other questions besides. Hermione covered her ears against the confusion of noise as different people asked different angry questions.

Finally the noise died down. Harry said, "How could you trust him? He tried to kill Dumbledore!"

Hermione was about to say, "Harry, he didn't "try" to kill Dumbledore, he didn't _want_ to do it!"

But Neville stood up and said, "And how could you help him after all he's been doing, picking on you and all that, just because you're muggleborn! You can't just forget how he called you a – a – " He stopped, not wanting to say the word "mudblood".

"You know him and the other Slytherins've never given you or any of us Gryffindors a moment's peace!" said Seamus. A lot of people murmured agreement. One or two even said, "Hear, hear!" and clapped.

Hermione looked at Ron. It didn't matter to her what the others thought, but she wanted to know what Ron's opinion was.

"Ron?" she inquired quietly.

So far Ron hadn't said a word. He was slumped in one of their favourite chairs by the fire, watching the goings-on but not participating. He had seemed uninterested in what was happening. At Hermione's words, however, he looked at her and said, "You really shouldn't have done it, Hermione." He was frowning now, as if to prove that he believed what he'd said.

"You know what you are, Hermione?" said Parvati Patil acidly, "You're a _traitor_."

No one spoke, but it was clear from the look on everyone's faces that this word had been on their minds. Hermione looked in turn at Harry., Ron and Neville. They all had the same looks on their faces, but they at least had the decency to look ashamed of it. Especially Neville. Hermione could tell that he almost understood why she had done what she had done.

Hermione frowned at them all, making sure everyone saw the angry look on her face. Then she turned ant set off at normal pace towards the Girls' Staircase, pushing through the crowd as she did so. Some of the people had been muttering to each other, but as Hermione moved away, they stopped and a stony, cold silence, worse by far than the noise they had been making earlier, filled the room.

Hermione was grateful when she came to her dormitory. She went straight to the window, and looked out. She could see the place where Malfoy had been that same night. Was it really this night? She felt like the whole thing had lasted days.

But no. It was getting to the early hours of the morning, and she was tired. But when she went to bed and closed her eyes, she didn't sleep a wink.

She wondered whether Malfoy would be any different. There was no doubt in her mind now as to his sincerity. But she wondered whether, back with his friends, he would revert back to his normal, smug, if not exactly evil, self.

And she even wondered whether there was anyone in the whole school who sympathised with her situation. Even if Malfoy had not been telling the truth, what was she supposed to do? Leave him out there, and let him start hexing his way through the school's population? He decision was a logical, sensible one.

But now, forgetting logic and sense, she had to think about the more personal things that had happened. She knew that her friends were no longer her friends, and it would be a long time before she could even hope for them to forgive her.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

The next day was, for Hermione, not exactly the best she had ever experienced. As she entered the Great Hall, every single Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, it seemed, fell silent and looked at her as if she were a stranger to them. Although of course most of the people knew who she was, being Harry's friend and all. Ex-friend. She sat down at the Gryffindor table, and everyone started talking again, and some of the people sitting near to her moved away. Hermione tried not to notice it, but it was hard. She sadly put a few things on her plate, and tried to eat, but she could not. She turned around and looked at the Slytherin table. People who were not sneaking looks at her were sneaking looks at Malfoy, and could see him sitting there, in new school robes, eating but not saying much. He participated a little when Pansy Parkinson spoke to him, which was often, but overall he was very subdued.

Hermione turned back round, not wanting to be thought even less of for looking even anywhere near the Slytherins.

She took out a book and began reading, since attempting to eat was pretty much a failure. But even Arithmancy did not serve to lift her spirits. She put it away in her bag and set off down the room and into the Entrance Hall. She went to one of her favourite places in the school – the Library. Here it was, this great room with shelf upon shelf of dusty tomes – so many gateways into whole new worlds of knowledge. It smelt of books: old paper and ink.

Hermione pulled out a book – a new book, not one she had to study from but one she might find interesting and enjoyable to read. She plonked it down on a table, but before she could sit down and start to read, she noticed that Luna Lovegood was sitting at a table, reading – the _Quibbler_. Hermione wondered if she ever read anything else. Luna was wearing her usual assortment of strange clothes, including a necklace that Hermione was sure looked like it was made of tiny little paper chains.

Luna looked up from her magazine and smiled when she saw Hermione. Hermione smiled back, glad to see a friendly face. Luna gestured at the chair opposite her, and Hermione, figuring that she might as well, sat down. "How come you're not at breakfast?" Hermione asked Luna now.

"Well…" Luna tucked away her magazine. "I heard about what you did, and figured out that that would be all people would be talking about in the Great Hall. That sort of thing doesn't interest me. People are worried about all the wrong things, you know. I'm more concerned about what the Ministry is up to right now. They're – "

Hermione cut her off quickly. "So – You're on my side, are you?"

"Oh, yes," said Luna. "Though of course, we're all on the same side against You-Know-Who. But if there are different sides on _this_ side, I'd rather be on yours. Because you're the smartest student in the whole school, and the way I figure it, your side is the one most likely to be the right one. Even though we do have our differences of opinion, I'm on your side… Now, would you like to read this article about someone who tried to breed a Crumple Horned Snorkak with a Blast-Ended Skrewt?" She waved the magazine.

"Er… Maybe later. It was nice talking to you, Luna."

"Nice talking to you too," Luna said, sinking back into her magazine of piffle.

Hermione went into the corridor, where she headed off to her first lesson, which was Herbology. She wished she could find comfort in the fact that _someone_ was on her side, but she was not happy about the fact that that someone was a girl who thought that everything was a Ministry cover-up and a conspiracy, and who wore carrots in her ears.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Hermione walked alone to the greenhouses, and even though they were in a greenhouse with the most interesting plants she had ever even been close to (all the names of which she already knew, of course), she didn't pay attention to them. She paid attention to the people around her. Then she saw someone she was glad to see. Ernie Macmillan. She and he had always got on well, being quite similar but for the mild pomp and propriety on his part. "Hello," she said to him now. "How're you?"

Ernie Macmillan looked incredibly uncomfortable. He was shifting his feet and looking anywhere but at Hermione. "Oh…erm…Hello…um, Granger." Oh, Hermione had forgotten about Ernie's fickleness.

Hermione was disappointed. But she didn't let herself give up. "Do you want to work with me?" she asked. The work was supposed to be done in twos.

"Er, no…That's all right, Hermione. I mean, Granger…" He turned away. Hermione gave up at this point, because Professor Sprout gave the order for quiet in the class.

It was getting annoying now, this universal cold shoulder. Hermione hadn't done anything wrong.

She had decided to go and see Hagrid, since no one was talking to her. It was cold, and Hermione wrapped her cloak tightly around her. She could feel the cold, hard earth underneath her feet as she walked. She shivered and knocked on the door. It was opened by the huge mass of black hair that was Hagrid. Hermione stepped into the glowing warmth that was Hagrid's wooden house. He gave her a mug of tea and a rock cake (Hermione took it politely and put it in her pocket to throw away later).

Hagrid said, "I've bin expectin' ter see yeh, Hermione. Knew yeh wouldn't be wantin to stay in school with all them kids as is ignorin' yeh. I'm wantin' to 'ave a word with Harry an' Ron, I 'ave. They should know better."

"So you're on my side?"

"Sides, Hermione? Really there shouldn't be any sides. What yeh did, letting young Draco Malfoy into school, was the on'y thing yeh could've done. Anyway, if Dumbledore – That's to say, the picture of Dumbledore – believes Draco Malfoy's back on the right tracks, so to speak, I say we should let 'im 'ave a chance. 'Cos the on'y other way for 'im to go is back to the Dark Arts. Dumbledore's… Er, Dumbledore's picture's right. Great man, was Dumbledore… Great man."

Hermione saw tears well up in Hagrid's eyes, and she stared at her mug, pretending not to notice.

"Just give ev'ryone time, Hermione, eh?" said Hagrid, dry-eyed again. "That's all they need. Just give 'em time."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

It was after Halloween, and the word on everybody's lips was "Quidditch". The first match was between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and both houses were constantly fighting, it seemed. Students couldn't go anywhere without witnessing or becoming involved in fights between Gryffindors and Slytherins. Hermione kept out of the way of these as much as possible, or attempting to stop them. She still spent most of her time in the Library.

One day, at the end of lunchtime, Hermione was coming out of the Library, and was heading to her next lesson of the day, and stopped when she saw – Draco Malfoy.

There he was, looking at her seriously, with no trace of the sneer that she had been used to for six years. Oh, how she had enjoyed wiping that sneer of his face in her third year, when she had slapped him! But now he looked small and harmless, and amiable.

"Oh, good." He said now. "I thought you'd be in the Library, I was looking for you. I need to talk to you about something."

"Sure…What is it?"

"Malfoy moved from foot to foot, anxious, and glanced around. "Please don't tell anyone I told you this, but…" He trailed off.

"What is it, Malfoy? I don't really have much time, you know."

"I know, I know. The thing is, I heard that the other Slytherin team members are planning to… sabotage the Gryffindor team, when they go to practice after school today."

"Sabotage? Oh no…" To Hermione, sabotage meant only one thing. Ambush. "But… Why are you telling me?"

"Come on, Hermione, who else would even give me the time of day, let alone listen long enough for me to tell them?"

"No, I mean – why are you telling anyone?"

Malfoy said nothing. Hermione frowned. She wished she could know what was going on in Malfoy's mind. Malfoy had always had a personal hatred of Harry. Hermione thought that this was separate from his then involvement with the Dark Arts. Surely Malfoy's change of heart would not go as far as caring about the welfare of Harry? And Malfoy had always put winning first. Why would he now foil a plot against the Gryffindor Quidditch team?

Perhaps Malfoy was hating telling Hermione about the plot, but wanted to make sure that his new leaf remained turned. Maybe he was trying to prove himself. To whom, though? Hermione? Himself?

Well, it didn't matter, really, why Malfoy had told her. What mattered was that he _had_ told her, and that she had to tell the Gryffindor Quidditch Team before they walked straight into an ambush.

Hermione didn't see anyone in the Gryffindor Quidditch Team for the rest of the day. Neither Harry nor Ron, the ones she usually came across most, were not in any of her classes. She would have to wait until the end of the school day. And then she would not have much time.

At the end her Arithmancy lesson, the teacher held her back to give her the extra study book she had asked for. The great book was so big that the took a long time getting it in her bag. Finally, success! She dashed out of the room and hurried along the corridor. She could see a line of red making its way outside, as she looked out of the window. She ran as fast as she could out of the school. There were the Gryffindors, nearing now the bushes behind which the Slytherins had unimaginatively hidden. Hermione put on an extra burst of speed in the hope that she would reach them in time.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Hermione's feet beat hard upon the freezing ground as she ran full pelt to where the Gryffindors were. She pulled out her wand as she ran and shouted, "Stop!" All of the Gryffindors stopped and looked round, irritated, each one of them wondering what Hermione had been running up to them like that for.

Hermione stopped and pointed at the bushes. "Right, you!" she said loudly. "_Out_ of there!"

Slowly, out from the bushes emerged Crabbe, Goyle and three other thuggish, brainless Slytherins whom Hermione did not know, and did not want to know. The people of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team looked at this brutish ensemble with surprise, then in unison produced their own wands and pointed them at the Slytherins. Hermione said, "Now push off, or we'll hex you so badly the finished result will be an improvement." Without a word the five cowardly Slytherins fled. They knew full well that they were no match for that many prepared Gryffindors.

The Gryffindors all looked at Hermione with utmost surprise on their faces. Hermione and the others put their wands back in their pockets, and Hermione looked at them, her face set, waiting for one of them to say something.

The Gryffindors had seemed to be waiting for her to speak first, until one of them broke the silence. It was the person Hermione had deemed the least likely to speak up. Ron. He said, "Whoah, Hermione… I mean, how did you even know they here there?" Hermione noticed that he and the others were looking at her with something close to respect. And also guilt. They had shunned her for quite a while, but despite it all, Hermione had still come through for them. It showed who exactly was acting the better person here.

Hermione hesitated before answering Ron's question. "You won't believe me if I tell you, you know," she said.

"No, we will," Ginny reassured her, resting her broom on the ground and leaning on it, "we promise. Right?" Everyone else nodded in agreement.

Hermione sighed. She might well be jeopardising her brief moment of not being ignored, but nevertheless she said, "Draco Malfoy told me."

Ginny did not seem at all perturbed by this. It seemed that this was what she had been expecting. Most of the others, on the other hand, exchanged doubtful looks.

"It's true!" Hermione insisted.

"I believe her," Ginny said. She turned to the others. "She wouldn't have said it otherwise. I mean, what would she gain from it? Nothing." Everyone else seemed to nod in reluctant agreement, except Harry, who frowned. Hermione knew he was ready to accept Hermione back, but never would he trust Draco Malfoy. Ron looked uncomfortable. He seemed to be torn between two opinions.

However, Hermione did not care much, because right now, she was being congratulated and slapped on the back for having saved them.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

News of what had transpired between the Slytherins and the Gryffindors spread through the school like wildfire. By the end of the day, almost every person in the school knew of the incident of the attempted ambush, how it had been thwarted, and Draco Malfoy's part in it. Word was passed of Draco Malfoy's intervention to every student who was not a Slytherin.

As with any story that is passed by word of mouth, this story became exaggerated so that it ended up with Hermione taking on all five Slytherins on single-handedly and hexing them so that they had to squelch away into hiding on their slimy bellies.

People began staring at Draco Malfoy whenever they saw him, so that Draco could appreciate how Harry must feel every day. People would narrow their eyes and stare at him closely, looking fruitlessly for a trace of that well-known sneer. Before, they had given him a wide berth and treated him with caution, but now they were forever whispering about him. He had helped to sabotage a Slytherin plan to ambush the Gryffindor Quidditch team – now why would he do that? The most logical explanation was that Draco Malfoy, son of a ruthless Death Eater, had decided to – for want of a better word – repent.

The only one who did not share this view was Harry. He scowled every time Draco's name was mentioned, and looked at Draco with mistrustful suspicion every time he saw him.

Ron still seemed very torn between Harry's opinion and what seemed to be the opinion of everyone else in the school. Whenever someone began talking about Draco, be it someone thinking the best of him or Harry thinking the worst of him, Ron stayed silent, or made noncommittal sounds. He was always extremely uncomfortable in situations like this.

The teachers, who had for the most part been sympathetic towards Draco, began to make the effort to stop the students staring at him and making him uncomfortable. They also tried to stop people gossiping about what had happened to him during his absence.

Hagrid, however, did not seem to mind telling Harry, Ron and Hermione what he knew about Draco Malfoy. Perhaps Hagrid thought that if there was something they wanted to find out they'd find out one way or another. Hagrid had definitely learned this over the years.

"Well, yeh know, Draco Malfoy's mother, she's done the same thing as 'im. Seems she didn' wan' anythin' ter do with the Dark Arts any more, an' 'as run away."

"Really?" Hermione was wide-eyed.

"Yeah. There's people from our side – people in the Order, yeh know – who's keepin' her safe. But apparen'ly, she never was very active on their side. Didn' seem ter be able ter tell us much abou' it. So I reckon the Death Eaters won' bother much about' tryin' ter hurt her."

"Wow," gasped Hermione. They were all gobsmacked. Malfoy's mother, in hiding?

"Did they tell Malfoy where she was?" asked Ron now.

"Ah, well, the boy doesn' know tha' she's in hidin' at all. He doesn' know tha' she ran away. She doen' wan' ter worry him," Hagrid added.

Harry let out an irritated noise and said very quietly, "like he'd care. He doesn't care about anyone but himself."

Everyone in the room heard every single word he said, but pretended not to.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

Christmas at Hogwarts emerged in a whirl of snow, and Hermione and Draco became even more famous. Thanks to their foiling the Slytherin plan to attack the Gryffindor team, all of the team were fit and well enough to play to their usual brilliant standard, and to beat the Slytherin team.

People who were watching Draco Malfoy during play (those who cared more about gossip than Quidditch) would have seen him no longer looking pleased at Slytherin's cheating. He seemed to have turned his new leaf completely over, and to have decided that fair play was the only way to go. They would have seen the expression on his face as he watched Harry shoot up into the air on his broom, clutching in his hand the golden glint that was the Snitch. The look on Draco's face had bee one of utter misery, not anger like that of the other Slytherin players and their supporters. Perhaps he had dared to hope that people would see his change, and with this would come his first Quidditch victory. But no, apparently this was not to happen.

Snow topped every branch of every tree (except for the Whomping Willow, who moved too much for snow to settle) and snow lay shining on the ground. Anything that was not adorned by a blanket of snow was covered instead with frost, so that they glittered and looked unreal, or as if they had been sprinkled with sugar.

Perhaps more spectacular than this were the decorations Hogwarts students found around them. Everywhere you looked you saw a new wonder: banisters glistened with snow and hung with hundreds of tiny icicles; a number of sparkling Christmas trees, each hung with different decorations; ghosts drifted through walls and down corridors, singing Christmas carols.

It was the last day before the Christmas break, and Hermione stood watching the ceiling swirl with flurries of snow. Hermione would be leaving to go home, and she couldn't help but feel a little twinge of sorrow as she looked at all the things she would be missing. Her Christmas would be less impressive, to be sure. But she had not seen her parents for a while, and missed them. Hermione missed seeing magic all around her, though, when she went home.

Ron was going home to the Burrow, with his large wizarding family making for a truly hectic and magical Christmas. He had not even asked Harry if he wanted to come with him. Harry had his own things to do, and neither Ron nor Hermione mentioned it, ever. They had decided to let him do it alone, with no one's help or interference.

Hermione was pulled slowly out of her reverie by the realisation that someone had spoken to her. She looked away from the ceiling, and there was Draco Malfoy. "What?" she asked, for she had not heard him.

"I said hello."

"Oh." She paused. "Hello."

There was a silence in which neither of them could think of anything to say. Then Hermione said, "How have things been?"

There was another pause, wherein Draco seemed to be contemplating his words. Then he began in a rush. "It's been a nightmare…" He explained to her that he no longer had any friends. The Slytherins had noticed his changed behaviour, his attitude, and they did not appreciate it. They had even become hostile towards him. Hermione wondered whether those people had ever been his friends, but did not mention it. She reassured him that soon the other students, the non-Slytherins, would stop being wrapped up in their shared opinions of him, and would approach him properly as a friend.

He looked from side to side, and lowered his voice before telling her more. He told her, leaning forwards conspiratorially, that he was afraid, all the time, of what some of the more dangerous people would do to him. Dark wizards and witches. Hermione said, "Everyone is afraid of people who are supportive of Vol – sorry, You-Know-Who. It's part of being on our side. But, seriously, there's no safer place for you than here, I can tell you that."

At that, Draco said, "thank you," and to her surprise took her hand and shook it. When he had gone, she thought how formal a farewell it was. But it had felt more like he was reaching out to her, as if he wanted her to be the one who brought about his reconciliation with the others, and protected him from those who wanted to hurt him. He had held her hand like a drowning person. But she thought she felt something else. As soon as she considered this, into her mind came a face with a blaze of red hair, and she smiled, as if at a secret only she knew.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The snow melted, Christmas ended, and Hermione returned to Hogwarts to find in everyone the normal post-Christmas depression that made people think, almost, that Christmas had come and gone quicker than usual, just to spite them.

However, Hermione soon found out that Draco had not a tough of the post-holiday blues about him; a lot of the non-Slytherins who had spent Christmas at school had been able to get to know him, and became friends with him, and, on their return after the holiday, a lot of other people followed suit.

Hermione found Ron, and he told her about his Christmas. Fred and George, over for the holiday, did not seem to have matured at all (though Hermione wondered if they ever would). Their contribution to the celebrations had been a whole crate of Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs, which spiralled and screamed through the air, banging and whistling and keeping the whole family up all night. Fred and George enjoyed every minute of it, and admired their handiwork. A very tired Mrs. Weasley yelled at them until she was hoarse the following day; although it wasn't as though she could ground them or anything. Also, the fireworks woke up the ghoul in the attic, whose pipe beating and wailing only added to everyone's headaches.

Hermione asked Ron, "Where's Harry?"

Ron looked at her meaningfully.

"Oh." And she and Ron began to worry about him. He was not back yet, and who knew what sinister dark force he was fighting?

Lessons began, and Hermione worked harder than anyone, as everyone knew she would, and Ron asked her to help him with his homework, as usual. And, unsurprisingly, Hermione told him that, if he worked harder in class, he would be able to do his homework. But she helped him anyway, inevitably.

But a cloud of worry and unbearable thoughts hung over them both. They both lay awake at night, imagining Harry lying dead in a ditch somewhere, or scattered in pieces all over the place, or… There was no end to these nightmarish imaginings.

Two days into the school Term, and in the middle of Transfiguration, into the room there burst a black-robed figure. Harry. Ron and Hermione looked closely at him. There seemed to be no visible wounds, no blood stains. Both of them knew that there could be other ways of injuring a person, but, apart from being a little out of breath, he looked healthy and at ease. Ron and Hermione let out simultaneous sighs of relief.

"Harry, where on Earth have you _been_?" asked Hermione angrily. "You missed two days of school, what were you _thinking_?"

"Well, what I was doing was a _little_ bit more important than school," retorted Harry dryly.

"More important than – !" She was shocked. She honestly couldn't think of anything more important than school, and learning magic. "What if you miss out on learning something that could save your life?" She paused, and carried on in a more reasonable voice, "Harry. You've got to give it a rest. Look at you, you look like you haven't slept in days. What you need to do is just be _normal_ for a while. Come to the next Hogsmeade visit. You can't carry on skulking around on your own. OK?"

Harry nodded, reluctantly. "OK."

The sun shone down on the Hogwarts students who were in Hogsmeade, a sure sign that spring was coming. There still hung in the air the frost of that snow-covered winter, but the sun, weak as it was, was dispelling this bravely.

Harry, Ron and Hermione walked the streets of Hogsmeade together, and for anyone looking at them would never have thought any of them had any troubles or worries. Even Harry would have seemed not to have a care in the world, but to people who knew him, he was restless and grim.

Hermione suddenly spotted Draco Malfoy walking their way. He didn't seem to notice them, until Hermione called out. Harry looked at Draco distrustingly. Ron again looked torn between Hermione, who was greeting him like an old friend, and Harry, who had a dour look on his face whenever someone mentioned him.

"Oh, hello." Draco was walking up to them, looking around furtively.

"What's the matter?" asked Hermione. "You seem a bit preoccupied." He looked around again, to make sure nobody was looking and listening, and said quietly, "I've got a message. From my mother. But I have to go and get it from someone in Hogsmeade. You see, she's not a supporter of You-Know-Who, any more. But she can't let anyone know. She can't let anyone know she's in touch with me. She's too scared."

"Who told you all this?"

"Someone who knows the person I'm supposed to find." And before anyone could say anything else, he was off, up the street and out of sight.

Ron looked confused. "What's going on there, then?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"Well, he can't have been telling the truth, can he?" Hermione gave him a perplexed look, so he said, "His mum's already in hiding, isn't she? And she doesn't want to involve him. But Malfoy doesn't know that, so he's just put together a story about his mum getting secret messages to him, when she's not even in danger. Well, not as much as that. So he's got to be lying. I wonder what he's really up to, and why he didn't want to tell us?"

But Hermione had already jumped to a different conclusion. "What if it's a trap?"

"_What_?" Ron was incredulous.

"Think about it. It could be a trap to lure him away, on his own, so that they can… You know."

Ron looked unconvinced, but Hermione was already off. He and Harry had no choice but to follow er, as she followed the route Draco Malfoy had taken through the bustling streets of Hogsmeade.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Hermione was picking her way as quickly as she could through the crowds, sometimes having to push her way through clumps of carefree people. In the distance, sometimes, she could see the place where Draco had turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

Harry and Ron were following her, apologising to everyone they and Hermione had annoyed by running into them, each wondering if Hermione had gone mad, but at the same time thinking of the possibility that she might be right.

They were away from the crowds now, away from the jam-packed shops. Away from the town itself. There were no buildings here, and they were running up a rise covered with weeds and yellowed grass.

At the top of the rise, they stopped, their eyes fixed on what they saw below them.

Draco was standing still, his back to the three of them, frozen with terror. Past him, Hermione could see the figure of a man, also stock still, but even from afar Hermione recognised the demeanour as that of a predator ready to pounce.

Without thinking, Hermione went closer, quickly, and let herself be seen. The man looked at her, and Hermione saw that he had his wand out, and this was now pointing at her. The man that she saw, she did not recognise. He was merely one of the thousands of weak people who had joined Lord Voldemort, wanting a share in his glory and power. This man had a thin, pallid face and thick eyebrows, but nothing else really made him stand out in any way. He was dressed in robes of plain black, and the hand that held his wand had yellowing fingernails. He was overall not a pleasant person to behold, not least because he was intent on killing Hermione and Draco.

And Harry and Ron. For they had now rushed to stand by Hermione, and in this far from calm quietude all realised they had no plan, and none looked at each other.

Hermione whipped out her wand, desperate to do anything, try anything, to get them all away from this, but – "_Expelliarmus_" said the Death Eater in a bored manner, and Hermione felt her wand fly out of her hand and watched as it made its way in a long arch through the air and into the waiting hands of the Death Eater.

The Death Eater aimed a curse at Hermione, and Hermione screamed, ducked, it missed her by inches, she watched in horror, crouching on the ground, as the Death Eater aimed curse after curse at Draco Malfoy. Hermione actually wondered why he didn't kill Draco straight out, but then realised that the Death Eater was enjoying it, not wanting to make it dull by just using the Killing Curse. As this thought occurred to her, she shuddered.

Harry and Ron were in on the fight now, too, trying, mostly, to Stun him, but even when they did it in unison, the Death Eater managed somehow to block them. Harry kept trying to Disarm him, but this, too, was blocked, and Hermione was shamed as she watched, wishing she was not so helpless without her wand, wishing she could do something, _anything_, to help. She saw her wand in his left hand, not being used, and hated the fact that it was in his hand and not hers.

She stood up, searched around for something that might be able to help her, but no, she could see nothing. She could hear, not far away, the various blasts and yells that came from the battling people, but these sounds came as if from a great distance, or as though she were in a bell jar, shut off from everything else. Everything seemed in slow motion.

She searched in her pocket and brought out the first thing she closed her hand around. Without looking at it, she threw it, with all her might, at the distracted Death Eater. Really, she had no hope that this would do anything to help.

She observed it, dully interested, as the object travelled, spinning slowly, towards the man. She narrowed her eyes and saw what it was. It was one of her tiny fires, locked inside a jar, and it was heading straight for the Death Eater. The Death Eater, however, did not notice. He was still blocking and aiming curses, hexes, et cetera, at the moment the thing made contact with him.

His robes burst into flame, and, even though it was a small blaze, and he extinguished it easily, that one moment of distraction was all the others needed. Harry Disarmed him, and gave Hermione back her wand, and Ron yelled, "Stupefy!" and the man slumped to the floor, completely out cold. It seemed such a simple thing to do, now that it had been done.

Draco, looking about him to see if there was anything else to do, simply did the only thing there was left to do. He pointed his wand straight up into the air, and sent up a jet of bright purple sparks, to draw people to them, to what had been going on. The sparks, upon entering the air, had let out a loud noise like fireworks.

Everyone looked at each other. Draco thanked them all, in awkward words, for coming to help him.

"Well, you know. It was Hermione who figured out what was going on," said Ron.

Hermione looked at Harry. There was a strange expression on his face; contrary to the one she had thought she would see. She had expected him to look uncomfortable that he had come to the aid of the one person he had hated ever since their first encounter. What she saw surprised her. He looked to her as if he was happy, or at least relieved, or something of the sort. Hermione thought, maybe the reason was, on his various searches for the Horcruxes, Harry had not been very successful, and had felt helpless. And now he had finally done something, at least. He had helped to catch a Death Eater, who would go to Azkaban because of him and the others.

Harry and Draco looked at each other, and for a moment Hermione thought they would shake hands or something, but they weren't quite there yet. But Hermione sensed a feeling of trust between them, as though Harry finally knew what Hermione had known before anyone: that Draco Malfoy had chosen to be against Voldemort.

Various Hogwarts students and inhabitants of Hogsmeade began to come, with curiosity plain in their faces, down from the rise, to look at the spectacle before them. Hermione looked at Ron, Harry and Draco. The year was not over yet, and Hermione knew that the worst was yet to come, as it had been coming since their first year at Hogwarts. But if Hermione, the one most prone to fear, could render a Death Eater helpless, there seemed no limits to what they could all do against the evil of Voldemort.

The End


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